


The Price of Loyalty

by RenewedSentiments



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt No Comfort, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27269158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenewedSentiments/pseuds/RenewedSentiments
Summary: "There is something here. In this room. It's watching us, I don't…" Merlin trailed off, his eyes going wide. There was a breeze on his neck. He looked upwards.It was darkness, but it had form. Vaguely, the outline of a woman appeared in the writhing shadow. She crouched on the ceiling, eyes of pure void staring back at them. A twisted smile stretched across the face. She began reaching out a hand, dark magic building up in her grasp, pointing straight towards the group of huddled individuals.There was no time. Merlin reacted instinctively. Arthur and the knights had looked to what had caught Merlin's attention and were shouting out battle formations. None of them were looking when Merlin released a spherical force of magic around him, pushing all of them away from where they had encircled him. They flew back, hitting the outer walls of the tunnel, as the dark energy blasted into Merlin. He could feel his bones cracking. No, wait, that was the ground. The stone floor was fracturing beneath the weight. Merlin had just a moment to look towards his friends, most struggling to orient themselves after the burst of magic that had spared them, before the earth caved, swallowing him whole.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finding himself in the midst of denial, Arthur blames magic for corrupting the once kind and generous Morgana. Sick over the prospect of having to kill his last remaining family member, he desperately hopes for another way. Conveniently, Arthur hears sudden rumors spreading of a magical artifact which can steal magic from its users. Believing this to be the answer to his problem, he sets off on a quest deep into the bowels of the earth. When things go awry, when it seems he has been manipulated into coming to this place, there is little to be done but ask the question: Who was this trap for? Arthur or Merlin? 
> 
> Separated from his friends, fighting for his life, wounded and without aid, will Merlin be able to once again protect those he cares about? Will he be able to endure the trials and hardships? What is the payment for his commitment? What is the price of his loyalty?

This had been a very bad day. Arthur had had many bad days in the past: too-close calls with bandits, crazy half-sisters laying siege to the kingdom, a manservant who didn't wake him up on time resulting in an offended ambassador and twelve live chickens in the throne room. He knew bad days. This… this was no worse than usual. They would survive miraculously as they always did. Arthur was just lucky. Or perhaps just too skilled. Those skills seemed to be failing him now, however.

He had known this mission would be dangerous. That's why he brought along his best and most trusted knights. And Merlin, of course. They had ridden out in desperation, his final chance at redemption, hearing of a magical artifact kept hidden in a subterranean wonderland beneath the mountains. They had been told that this artifact could steal the magic from a sorcerer just when Arthur had been dredging his mind trying to find a way to deal with Morgana. Any option that he could use to stop her. Besides the most obvious one, death. The rumors had poured in like sweet honey just when he had needed to hear them. When he had wanted to hear them. With the artifact, he could save his sister. Bring back the woman he knew, that he had grown up with. Save her from the magic that had swallowed her soul. What a fool he had been.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking out of the conference room where he had spoken with the knights of his plan and the collected rumors that had been discovered sifting throughout town, Arthur strode back to his chambers. He kept his shoulders back, chin-up, and walked with a confidence he hadn't felt in months. He had a plan.

Merlin walked just behind him, having to hurry to catch up. Arthur did not notice the pensive look the servant had adopted since he had announced what he had found and what he was going to do.

Once the door had closed to his room, Merlin spoke out.

"Arthur, this doesn't feel right."

"Nonsense, Merlin. This is just what I have been looking for. A way out. Or, another way. One that doesn't have to end in death," Arthur responded look back at him.

"Exactly Arthur! It's too convenient!" Merlin exclaimed, gesturing outwards.

"Magic is never convenient!" Arthur snapped, anger filling the place certainty had just vacated. "It has taken too much from me already! My mother, my father, my sister. Now, it has the chance to pay some of that debt back."

"Arthur…"

"I am going Merlin. I will not have another opportunity like this again. Stay here if you'd rather give up on Morgana and let her die," he remarked coolly, turning his back to the servant to begin collecting papers.

He heard a sigh coming from the man behind him. "Of course I'm coming. But I'm not doing it for some fairytale cure," Merlin snapped, matching Arthur's coolness with vehemence.

"Then why are you coming, Merlin?! What help have you ever been? You can't wield a sword, you trip over your own feet, and half the time someone has to rescue you from your own failure."

The room stilled. He no longer heard Merlin going about his usual chores in the room. Maybe that had been too far.

He heard a soft scoff and turned to face his… friend. Merlin was his friend.

"I used to ask myself a similar question. But it wasn't me that I was thinking of," Merlin's voice was too calm, too low; his expression was too closed off to read his emotions, but the stiff posture spoke volumes.

That had been too far. Arthur made to speak, to apologize, but Merlin cut him off.

"To answer your question, I'm doing it for you. I'll see you tomorrow, _sire_."

With that, Merlin turned and walked out of the room.

Sighing, Arthur sat down heavily in his chair. Rubbing his thumb and forefinger across his temple he tried to stop the memories from returning. Morgana, her face filled with hate. Screaming for his death. Her eyes had been the hardest to look at. Once, they had been so kind. There was nothing but hatred within them now. Those eyes haunted him. Morgana had fallen so far so fast, and the reason was obvious. As it always did, magic had corrupted her. Stolen joy and happiness from her. Magic was a curse, and he had failed to save her from it. He owed this to her. He owed his sister a chance. This time, he would not fail.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Merlin wanted to scream. He was frustrated. None of this felt right. He could feel it. Something wanted Arthur to find this artifact, whether it be real or not. This was a trap. But who was it a trap for? A clever lie to entice a beleaguered king? Or an artifact that in the hands of one who hated magic could wipe out the magical community?

It came down to this: was this a trap for Arthur or for him?

That terrified him.

An artifact that could rip out someone's magic. It chilled him so deeply that a shiver went down his spine. He wanted to gag. What if they did find it? Would Arthur stop at Morgana? Arthur was a good man, at times he was a great one. But would that need to do right extend to curing the populace of what he deemed as a plague?

Would this be the end of magic?

Would this be the end of him? If Arthur found out about his magic would he force it from Merlin too? What would it feel like to not have magic? At one point in his life, he would have blessed the possibility. Given anything for it. Magic was a burden that had been thrown on him without his consent. It made him different. It made him hunted. It made him lonely. Now, he thought differently. Or perhaps not differently. Magic was a burden. Well, it was more of a responsibility. He could not go too far, he could not do too much, he could not abuse or needlessly harm or take for granted. Magic had little to do with what you can do. It had everything to do with what you shouldn't.

Honestly, it was little different from any other form of power. A ruler had to know his boundaries. Had to not force himself upon his people. Had to respect them and uphold the law and protect them. A sword could be used to threaten, physical size and strength could be used to cow. You had to know when not to use that power. You had to know the risks and the consequences and you had to follow what you believed to be right. Not everyone did. That was why power was dangerous. But power was not inherently evil. Misuse of power is what is evil.

Merlin found himself atop the battlements, looking out over the quiet Camelot below, the forest beyond, and the stars above. At times, his shoulders ached with the weight of all he carried. At times, he had longed to put it down. He wanted to beg a reprieve from the universe. He loved Arthur. Arthur was truly his friend. As close as anyone else in his life. For Arthur, he would do near anything. That scared him sometimes. The devotion and loyalty that had come from not only embracing his destiny but from the hope in the King his friend would make. Merlin was not very religious. Perhaps he should be considering he was a product of prophecy, but he wasn't. He didn't make alms to the Goddess. He didn't follow a code like the knights. His faith and his belief rested solely upon Arthur and the future they would create. His faith and his belief rested upon the knowledge of the character of his friend.

For the prophecy he had been born to, he would live. He would sacrifice. He would try.

For the friend? For the man he believed in unconditionally? He would die. He would bleed. He would give his very soul. Perhaps he already had. He was not proud of all that he had done. But it all had been for Arthur. Not because of prophesy or destiny or cryptic dragons. He did it because Arthur was his best friend and he had faith in him.

That was why days like today were some of the hardest. When Arthur wouldn't listen. When Merlin could see disaster and couldn't get Arthur to budge. The words Arthur had told him had… hurt as well. He didn't truly wish to ponder it. Arthur needed him, even if he didn't fully realize it. Merlin could do things. He worked hard. He was not a liability.

At least, on the days he was strong that is what he told himself.

The failure part though, that had hit too close to home. Merlin often failed. He had lost so many because of his mistakes. Will, Balinor, Freya, Lancelot, Morgana… and those were just the ones closest to him. Innocents had died because Merlin was not fast enough or brave enough or smart enough or wise enough. He sometimes wondered if he would ever just be enough.

Looking up at the stars, he breathed deeply. Arthur was right. Morgana needed help. He did not know what form that help could be, if he could even pull her from the depths in which she had sunk. Perhaps saving her was letting her go.

But, if Arthur took away her magic it would not solve anything. For a time, Morgana would be declawed. But she would be no less rabid. In fact, he didn't think that she would ever forgive such a crime. Magic was a part of one's very being, their soul. To strip it away would take a fundamental part of who one was. It sounded a pain worse than death. He ached just thinking about it, how wrong it would be. Merlin didn't know if he was cruel enough to do it to her. If there was no other choice, then maybe. They were running out of options.

There was one thing he knew for certain, amidst the doubts and questions swirling through his mind. Merlin would have to protect both Pendragons, no matter the cost to himself. For the friend he followed and the friend he had lost, he would go on this quest. He just had to make sure that Arthur was safe. And then he had to keep all magic users safe from Arthur.

Life was cruel like that. No matter what he chose, he would betray someone.

He stood up. Then walked back to his rooms with the weight of responsibility crushing him beneath it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only my second fanfiction I have ever written. The first I wrote was years ago though, so hopefully this goes well! I won't be posting super consistently, this is just something I'm doing as a creative outlet when I have the time. If you see anything wrong with the tags/format/etc. let me know! Thanks for reading:)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for the lovely comments and kudos. Truly means a lot! You are all wonderful people.

Merlin swam towards the surface as fast as he could push himself. His lungs burned, his body ached. Clawing at the water above him, he finally crested the surface. Gasping in sweet, precious air, he flung his body out onto the nearby rocks, crawling forwards onto solid ground. He coughed himself hoarse, dispelling water onto the cold stone. Great, shuddering breaths came from him as he attempted to calm a pounding heart and angry lungs. Sitting back upon his heels, he closed his eyes.

He had told Arthur. He had _told_ him.

There was no use thinking like that, he knew it. Arthur was pigheaded sometimes. Merlin should have known to work around it. He had always worked around it. This time, he had failed. Merlin had gone in expecting a trap and yet he had still failed.

No time for wallowing. No time to think about what went wrong. His friends needed him.

Pushing himself onto legs that still shook faintly, he set off into the darkness.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day as his companions gathered together to set off towards the unknown, Arthur considered going over to speak to Merlin. That morning had been a bit more tense than usual. Merlin had done all the usual things that manservants were definitely not supposed to do, such as that incessant prattling on that he does, but it had been with a twinge of buried emotion. Arthur remembered the look of disappointment from the night before and regretted the words that had brought it about.

Maybe it was better not to bring it back up. Merlin got over things quickly. He probably wouldn't appreciate Arthur bringing up the past. Best to just move on.

Signaling the others it was time to go, they started off on their journey. Merlin, however, didn't join Arthur in the front as he often did, instead trailing to the back to speak with Gwaine. It looked like they were already laughing about some such nonsense, pulling in Percival to their conversation. Merlin often did that. Whenever there were people who needed to be included, Merlin would reach out. It didn’t matter who they were. Percival was a generally quiet man, not slow of thought, but preferring his words to be those most important. It meant he wasn't always the first thought of to join in comradery. Merlin bridged this, pulling people together and connecting them.

Honestly, Arthur was jealous of it. Merlin knew people better than anyone Arthur had ever met. He could make friends with a Saxon warlord and convince him to be a pen pal.

Soon, Leon brought his horse next to Arthur's and began to discuss the upcoming journey and potential options they had in regards to approach patterns and detecting enemies. Leon was a good sort. Strong of heart and loyal to the crown. He had a practicality to him that was grounding and he approached every scenario like a battle. Leon was a good tactician. It's why he was First Knight. He did a good job.

Unfortunately, Arthur's heart was not in it. He felt strangely uneasy. His dream the night before hadn't been pleasant. Listening to Leon continue on about the optimum camp formation in regards to bedroll spacing, Arthur's mind wandered back to it.

_**Arthur's heart pounded in time to the beating mass he clutched in his hand. Horrified, he noticed the blood still pumping out of it. It was unpleasantly warm.** _

_**Glancing in front of him, he saw a man kneeling at his feet. There was a hole in his chest, blood seeping through the gaping wound and puddling on the floor. Arthur was standing right in the middle of it. The man seemed familiar. He couldn't quite place it. It was important that he knew who this was. It was imperative that he knew who this was!** _

_**Reaching with his other hand to place it on his shoulder, golden eyes stared right back into his own.** _

_**"I trusted you," the man said. All Arthur could see was the man's eyes. He could not look away, trapped within their depths.** _

_**The heart in his hands began to slow its rhythm, then began calcifying. Just as the heart completely solidified, golden eyes closed. The man crumbled to dust, Arthur clutching that which could not be parted with.** _

Agreeing with whatever Leon had just suggested, Arthur pushed the dream away. That is what it was, a dream. Dreams could not hurt you. Even if that man had seemed so familiar and so disturbingly broken.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They had arrived. A week of travel, a close call with an avalanche, and a surprisingly-adept, one-eyed bandit later, and the entrance to the mountain loomed. Like a great maw, the entrance seemed to wish to swallow them whole.

No different from their usual escapades then.

This time, however, Merlin felt particularly uneasy. This was a trap. He could feel it. And something… something malevolent resided below. Something old. He felt prickles against his skin. As if someone was lightly touching him. His magic reacted by snipping back at the intrusions. Was it… taunting him?

A hand on his shoulder startled him from his thoughts and he looked to see Gwaine's worried face.

"Are you alright Merlin? You were staring off into space there."

"Yea, I'm fine Gwaine. I just… something feels off. Keep your wits about you, I think this might be a trap," Merlin replied quietly.

"Will do. Someone's got to watch your back. You always end up in trouble," Gwaine replied, his tone jovial but his expression serious.

"Aren't you supposed to protect the King?" Merlin questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"That's the problem, Arthur has you for that. You're too self-sacrificing. By protecting you, I protect him. I still don't know how you do it, but I suspect more of our close calls are attributed to your fast action than any favor of the gods."

If only he knew. Flashing the knight a slightly-rueful grin, Merlin dismounted along with the rest of the party. He made a quick scan of the gathered group, making sure everyone was well and accounted for. Percival, Elyan, Leon, Gwaine, Arthur. Wait. Where was Arthur? Swiveling around, Merlin scanned the area.

Of course. The prat was just strolling towards the mouth of doom. No word of warning. No, "Hey, probably best we stick together in case this cave really is sentient and hungry." No, that would be smart. Knights were not smart. The only manly use for one's head was as a battering ram. Merlin grabbed his pack quickly and rushed to follow his King, the others following after a moment. Standing beside Arthur, the other knights to his back, Merlin looked at his friend questioningly.

Arthur stood for a moment staring at the dark hole. Turning to face his most trusted allies and friends, he began to speak.

"Men, this is dangerous. We have no idea what to expect down there. If this thing can really steal magic then I imagine someone went to great lengths to hide it. Most likely a magic-user. I do not ask you to follow lightly. I see this as the only way to bring peace to the kingdom. Magic has done great evils to us over the years. This will even out the playing field. However, I cannot in good conscience command you to follow me into this. Instead, I will ask. I will not think less of you if you do not come, you all have proven to me time and time again your bravery and nobility," Arthur spoke calmly, his face serious. He stood tall, his shoulders back, one hand resting on his sword. If Merlin didn't know any better he would say he was looking at one of the great kings of old. Kings of stories and legends. Merlin did know better though. He was a clotpole. But, he was also the greatest King that will ever live. None other compared.

"As your friend, not your king, I ask you to follow me on this quest," Arthur finished looking to each of the gathered men.

None of the knights hesitated to step forward, however, it was Gwaine who cheekily remarked, "Of course we're coming with you, you clotpole. Going into the dark and dangerous hole in the ground without us? So you can hog all the glory? Not on your life," Gwaine remarked, sauntering with the rest to stand beside Arthur, a grin stretched across his face.

"I'm pretty sure that's Merlin's word," Elyan replied raising a finger up.

"Merlin can't own a word. It's a word. You don't own words," Arthur huffed in mock-anger, but beneath he was secretly proud of all his knights. Merlin could tell.

"Truly, a master logician sire. And I suppose a chicken is a chicken because it's a chicken?" Merlin quipped.

"Shut up Merlin."

"Shutting up sire."

These were truly great men. Merlin thought them the best that he had ever met. Probably the best that there ever would be. It didn't matter the odds or the circumstances, they would always be where they were needed. Merlin watched them all proudly. They had come so far. All of them had. And whether they knew it or not, Merlin would protect them. With all that he had. He could offer no less for their loyalty.

Into the darkness, they went then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another slower chapter, but don't worry. The next chapter is where things really pick up. I've already got it mostly written, so hopefully, it will be a bit quicker of an update.


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